


hello (i miss you quite terribly)

by BookPirate



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Break Up, Resolution, definitely suggestive of a happy ending, somewhat happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 06:10:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4908358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookPirate/pseuds/BookPirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy Blake broke Clarke Griffin's heart three years ago and she's still not over it. Now, at Monty and Miller's wedding, she's running into him for the first time since he walked out. The only way she's surviving this is with copious amounts of alcohol and avoidance. But someone has other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hello (i miss you quite terribly)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what I'm doing with my life anymore. I'm like super sleep-deprived but this idea would't leave me alone. So, as a result, I apologize for any possible incoherencies.
> 
> Title from 'Here (In Your Arms)' by Hellogoodbye

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Raven asks, looking at Clarke worriedly as she straightens out her tie.

Clarke sighs and fidgets impatiently as she waits for Raven to be done. “Look, it was three years ago, and I’m sure seeing me will mean nothing to him, so it has to mean nothing for me, right?”

Raven looks sceptical. “Right. Well, Wick and I will be there for alcohol support, and you’ve only got to get through the ceremony and reception. You can do this.”

“And I don’t even have to talk to him for the ceremony!” Clarke says with a wave of her arms. “See? This is going to be so great. I can feel it.”

Raven sighs and pats her on the back. “If it helps you to lie to yourself, go for it. Here’s a flask in case that doesn’t work though.” She withdraws the silver container and slips it into the inside pocket of Clarke’s suit.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Clarke pats her pocket for reassurance.

Raven shrugs. “That’s what they tell me,” she says, before shoving Clarke towards the door. “Now, come on, we’re going to be late.”

They race to the church where Miller and Monty are going to be saying their vows. Clarke stumbles out of the car before racing towards where she knows Monty is getting dressed in his tux. She bursts open the door and scares not only Monty but Jasper.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” she gasps out.

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Monty soothes her as he reaches over and pulls her into a tight hug. “I’m so happy you’re here!”

“Me, too.” She rubs soothing circles into his back as they sway back and forth for a little. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he says as he releases her so Jasper can hug her. “It means a lot to both Nate and me that you’re here.”

Clarke keeps an arm looped around Jasper while she turns to look at Monty. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

There’s a knock on the door before it cracks open. “Sorry to interrupt, but is everybody ready? Nathan and his groomsmen have lined up,” the priest informs them.

“You ready, Monty?” Jasper asks, tears welling up in his eyes. “There’s still a chance to run for it, you know. The car’s all gassed up and ready to go.”

Monty cuffs him on the back of his head. “Don’t be an idiot. I’ve waited four years for this, and I’m not waiting any more.”

Monty leads the way, as Jasper and Clarke fall in line behind him. She’s not carrying anything, just standing up on Monty’s side for moral support as he and Miller get married. She’s been mentally preparing for it since Monty asked her to be a groomsman (groomsmaid?), but it’s still a shock when she sees Bellamy Blake following Miller as he and Monty meet at the altar.

He looks good, better than he should in Clarke’s opinion. Since he walked out on her three years ago, she’s lost about ten pounds (even though she’s started gaining it back), and can feel her ribs pretty easily. The dark circles under her eyes have become permanent, and her liver likely isn’t thanking her for her increase of alcoholic intake.

But Bellamy looks like he’s just stepped out of an ad for GQ. His hair is slicked back, and she can see his muscles clearly defined under the crisp, well-tailored lines of his suit. His big brown eyes, easily her favorite physical trait of his after his freckles (and his arms) are carefully trained on Miller and Monty, away from her, and it stings, so she drops her gaze to the floor.

Not that she wasn’t expecting it to sting. She can still remember the way he had walked out of her apartment three years ago, his parting shot being that he was holding her back and she was just with him for her own amusement, to avoid her responsibilities. It still rings in her ears, and has pretty consistently ever since.

She still blames her mother for putting the idea in his head, that he was a toy for Clarke to play with, an excuse she was using to not go to medical school. Never mind that she never wanted med school, that that was never her dream. But she couldn’t stop him from leaving, and she never got over it.

She thought it might’ve been easier when she spotted him a week or so after the break-up, leaving one of their favorite bars with a brunette on his arm, but it wasn’t. It just made the crack permanent. She hasn’t dated, hasn’t hooked up since, and threw herself into getting a degree as an art teacher. If Bellamy thought he was the only thing standing between her and med school, well, he was more the fool for it.

Suddenly everyone is clapping and cheering and it jolts her out of her reverie. She looks up from where she’s been staring at the floor to where Monty and Miller are sharing their first kiss as married men, and she starts crying and laughing along with the rest of the church, pushing her grief aside to make room for the overwhelming joy she feels for her friends. Or, really, friend. Bellamy kept Miller after the break-up, but Monty still obviously loves her enough to want her to stand up with him and Jasper, and it warms her heart to know that.

She sweeps them both up into hugs, Miller murmuring “It’s good to see you,” into her hair as she gives him a watery smile and kiss on the cheek, before rushing out to the parking lot to climb into Raven’s car so they can head to the reception.

“So, you okay?” Raven asks as Clarke approaches the car.

In answer, Clarke takes the flask out of her coat pocket and drinks heavily from it. “Been better.”

“Jesus, Griffin, you might want to slow down a bit. There’ll be more booze at the reception,” Wick remarks from the front seat as both girls slide in.

“Shut the fuck up, Wick,” Raven snaps. “Let’s go.”

Thankfully, Clarke can sit with whomever the fuck she wants at the reception, and doesn’t have to give a speech because Jasper was the best man, not her. She’s content to sit at her table, with Raven and Wick and a couple of distant relatives she doesn't know, with her back to Bellamy, and drink her whiskey as she watches the couples on the dance floor.

She’s thinking about how nice it is that Raven has Wick as she watches them sort of flail around to the music (well, Wick flails, as Raven tries to guide him through a simple waltz) when someone taps her on the shoulder.

Clarke jolts about a mile out of her chair before she turns and sees it’s Octavia. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” the youngest Blake says with a wry smile. “Sorry.”

“Octavia.” Clarke pulls her into a tight hug, burying her face in her old friend’s shoulder. Octavia was another friend Bellamy kept in the break-up, but that was to be expected, due to them being siblings and all.

Octavia squeezes her back just as hard before pulling back a little bit. “Want to dance? We can catch up!”

“Of course!” Clarke tugs her out onto the dance floor, and, since the song that’s playing is rather slow, they loop arms around each other’s waists and start swaying. “I’ve missed you, O.”

“Me, too,” Octavia admits. “I’ve wanted to call, but I wasn’t sure if you’d hate me or not.”

“I could never hate you, O. You were one of my best friends.” Clarke sighs and places her forehead on the shorter girl’s shoulder.

Octavia sighs this time. “And then Bellamy went and fucked it up.”

Clarke pulls back to meet Octavia’s eyes. “It was my fault we fell out of touch, O. I just didn’t want to have to make you choose between your friend and your brother, so I removed myself from the equation.”

“I wish he hadn’t put you in that position though.” Octavia is quiet for a moment before continuing, “He misses you, you know.”

Clarke freezes. “Please don’t tell me that. I’ve just gotten back to the point of being able to function. I can’t think about him anymore, O.”

“He realizes he was an ass, and the fact that you didn’t go to med school just sort of makes him feel worse.” Octavia’s eyes are searching her own, so Clarke drops her gaze, along with her arms.

“I can’t do this right now, Octavia. Please,” she chokes, before making a swift exit off the dance floor and out of the reception hall.

Once she’s outside in the parking lot, she sits down on a curb, drops her forehead to her knees, and starts forcing herself to take deep breaths. Clarke knows she’s strong, the last three years being a testament to that. She’s gotten her teaching degree, gotten a job that she’s excelling at, and manages to maintain her (admittedly small) circle of friends. She has Raven, and Lexa, with whom she was better off as friends, and, on a good day, Jasper and Monty. She likes her life, she does, it’s just moments like this that she remembers what it was like to love and be loved, how it felt for Bellamy to pull her into a hug after a stressful day, how it was like to tell him anything and everything. She misses it, and him, but she’s not wasting away. Not anymore. But it still hurts.

After she’s calmed down, she takes another few swigs of the flask Raven gave her, and pulls one of the two cigarettes she’s stashed in her pants pockets. She doesn’t smoke regularly, but it’s a vice she falls back on when she’s stressed, and this is definitely one of those times.

She’s just lit up and taken a really nice, long drag, when a too-familiar voice pipes up behind her. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

She twitches a little, only mildly surprised at the interruption. “Yeah, well, there’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore.”

Bellamy sits down next to her on the curb, close enough that she could touch him, but not so close that she could rest her head on his shoulder, like she used to. They’re quiet for a few moments, Clarke watching the smoke as it dances in front of her.

He’s the one that breaks the silence, clearing his throat before asking, “So, how’ve you been?”

She takes another drag before answering. “Fine. You know, working at the local elementary school as an art teacher, still living with Raven,” she pauses, “you?”

“I finally got that Master’s in history, so now I’m a professor at the community college, but other than that everything’s pretty much the same. Although now that Miller’s moved in with Monty the apartment feels a little lonely. I’m not used to it, so I’m thinking about moving.”

“Well, congratulations!” She bites back a smile, remembering how they’d all crowd into their kitchen on the nights the whole gang would get together, squabbling over food and drinks. “And yeah, I can see that.” She takes a final drag, and stubs out the cigarette on the ground before standing up. “Well, I better get back inside and say goodbye to Miller and Monty.” After talking with him, she figures her duties are up, and it’s time to go. She pauses, considers how he’s sitting, knees bent with his elbows resting on them, eyes looking up at her through the curls that have started escaping his hairstyle. “It was nice seeing you, Bellamy.” And it’s not a lie, not really. It’s a reminder that she’s still not over him, that she’ll never be over him, but it’s nice to see him healthy and happy. She’s never wished him ill.

“You’re leaving already?” he asks, surprised, standing up quickly.

She clears her throat, smiling nervously. “Well, the speeches have been said, all the traditional wedding stuff is over, so yeah, I figure it’s time for me to get going.” She starts to walk around him, but he grabs her wrist.

“Wait, Clarke,” he says, tugging her a little bit towards him, “won’t you dance with me? For old time’s sake?”

She laughs, but there’s no humor behind it. “Considering how our ‘old times’ ended, I’d rather not, Bellamy. We made small talk, were perfectly polite, and now it’s time for me to leave.” She moves to go, but his hand stays clasped around her wrist.

“Clarke,” his voice is soft, pleading, “please.”

Their eyes meet, and she searches his for a long moment. He’s earnest and anxious, she can tell, because she’s always been able to read him like a book, so she acquiesces. “One dance, Bellamy, and then I’m leaving.”

He smiles at her, large and full and blinding. It makes her heart ache with remembrance. “Thank you.”

He leads her out onto the dance floor, and the song immediately transitions into a slow one. She glares at Jasper, who has just slipped the DJ a twenty and is giving her a thumbs up. “I’m going to kill him,” she mutters.

“I may have asked him to see if we could get a slower song,” Bellamy admits sheepishly.

Clarke remains stiff in his arms. “Why, Bellamy? Why is this important to you?”

He looks at her, and a sad smile crosses his face. “I miss you, Clarke.”

There's a roaring in her ears as she tries to tug out of his grip, but he’s too strong for her. “I do _not_ want to have this conversation right now.”

“Clarke, can you just listen?” he pleads. “I was an idiot, and an asshole, and I understand if you hate me, I just want you to know how sorry I am, and how much I wish every day I could take back that fight.”

“It wasn’t even a fight, Bellamy!” Clarke is having to exert a lot of energy into making sure the tears she feels in her eyes don’t spill over, and that her voice stays even. “You walked out, claiming you knew what was best for me, and that you weren’t it. You told me I was just using you as a distraction! It didn’t even make any sense!”

“I know, okay? I know I fucked up, and said things to only hurt you. I just never wanted you to regret being with me,” he tries to explain, and it's the last straw.

She takes a deep breath. “The only thing I regret is letting you get close enough to break my heart in the first place. You want to know the truth, Bellamy? I’ve done what I had to to survive in my life, but I still cry myself to sleep most nights. We were only together for six months, but you managed to worm your way into my heart so sufficiently that even after three years you’re all I can think about. But I can’t forgive you for turning me into a shell of who I used to be. I’m never going to be able to trust you with my heart again, and that’s the truth.” She wrenches herself out of his arms. “Now, leave me alone. I may never be able to get over you but I sure as hell can try.” With that, she storms out, sorry she caused a scene at Monty and Miller’s wedding, upset with herself for letting herself be so emotional, but also relieved that at least she won’t have to deal with him for hopefully at least another three years.

She doesn’t wait for Raven and Wick, who surely witnessed the blow up, and keeps walking past the parking lot and down the road. She’ll send Monty and Miller another wedding gift to make up for her behavior, after she drowns herself in a pint of cookie dough ice cream.

She gets about three blocks before a car honks at her. She turns her head to see Raven rolling the passenger’s side window down. “Get in, babe. I’m lot letting you walk the six miles back to the apartment.”

With a sigh, Clarke gets in the car, and rests her head against the window. “Thanks.”

Wick opens his mouth, but Raven punches him in the arm. “She doesn’t want to talk about it, dick, can't you see? Now, take us to the store. We’re getting a gallon of ice cream.”

The next week is one of the worst Clarke’s had since the break-up, but she still manages to get up and go to work every day. She sends Monty and Miller a set of science-themed beer steins and an apology to make up for her behavior at their wedding, but they're on their honeymoon, so she won’t hear back from them for another two weeks. Raven watches trashy TV with her at night, and Tuesday and Thursday she still meets up with Lexa for their bi-weekly drink. Lexa offers to remove Bellamy’s kneecaps, which Clarke appreciates, but ultimately deems unnecessary.

After all, he’s certainly picked up other women before. Clarke figures it was probably just the nostalgia of having the gang all back together again that made him approach her. In due time, he’ll forget about her again, and things will eventually go back to normal, because that’s how these things work, right?

Of course, with her luck, of course she’s wrong.

After a Saturday night of getting pleasantly buzzed, she’s woken up at three in the morning by an insistent ringing of the doorbell. Figuring it’s just Raven coming back from Wick’s and forgetting her key, Clarke shuffles to the door in her sleep shorts and a shirt she may or may not have stolen from Bellamy (so sue her it’s super comfortable).

“Forgot your key, again?” Her laughter cuts off abruptly as she opens the door to Bellamy. “Oh.”

“Can I come in?” he asks, urgently.

She blinks sleepily at him, in shock. “Why?”

“I need to talk to you,” he insists.

In her slightly-still-drunk and sleepy state, she moves to the side so he can enter the apartment, and shuts the door behind him. She then turns to him, crosses her arms over her chest, and looks at him expectantly. “Well?”

“I still love you,” he blurts out.

That certainly snaps Clarke awake. “You _asshole_!” she screams, reaching for the closest thing (a shoe) and chucking it at him. “You do _not_ get to say that to me!” She throws another shoe. “What the fuck? After three years you have the _audacity_ to say that to me?” She throws more shoes, and manages to hit him in the chest a couple of times.

“Wait, Clarke -” he tries, but she’s not done.

“I can’t fucking believe you! You don’t even know me anymore! Why can’t you just leave me alone?” She breaks down with this last sentence, curls up into herself on the floor and lets herself sob loudly.

"Clarke," he says softly, approaching her cautiously. "I was an idiot. It's only ever been you."

"You're such a fucking  _liar_ ," she tries to get out in between breaths. "I saw you pick someone up not even a month after we broke up! I know how little I meant to you!"

He looks like his heart is breaking, which Clarke is happy about, because there's no way he's allowed to walk away from this unscathed. "I was trying to get over you!"

"Then get over me!" she screams back.

"I can't!" he bellows, and it shocks her out of her tears. "I've tried and I can't! Yes, I may not know everything about you anymore, but I know who you are as a person, Clarke, and I know that I've been living some sort of half-life since I walked out. I finished my degree and got a better job so I could be worthy of you, and I want to prove to you I am! The one constant thing has been how much I love you, and I will _always_ love you. I want a second chance, please."

She slowly pushes herself up off the floor, kneeling for a moment as she makes sure she can breathe well enough to stand, and knuckles away the remainders of her tears. "You always deserved me. I never wanted anyone but you. I never cared how rich or poor, educated or not you were. You should've known that."

He runs his hand through his hair. "I know, I just let your mother get into my head and I shouldn't have."

"No, you shouldn't have." She eyes him, before sagging her shoulders. "I don't want you to break my heart again, Bellamy. I don't know if I could take it."

"I won't," he promises, earnest and eager, reaching over to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. "I swear I won't. Please, let me prove it to you. I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to."

She searches his face, and finds nothing but truth in his features. She's tired of fighting, tired of being alone and missing him. "Okay."

He smiles, wide and joyous. "Okay?"

She nods, still exhausted. "Yeah. You're on probation, though, and one slip up and it's over," she warns. "I was serious when I said I can't have you breaking my heart again."

"I completely understand." He sweeps her up into a hug. "Thank you, Clarke."

She lets herself melt for a few seconds, burying into his warmth and inhaling that familiar Bellamy smell she's missed so much, before pushing him away. "Okay, now let me go back to sleep. It's fucking three thirty in the morning."

"Okay," he nods eagerly, "definitely. I'm out of your hair. I'll uh, I'll call you tomorrow about a date, okay? Same number, right?"

She nods. "I'll be waiting for it," she says softly. "Goodnight, Bellamy."

"Goodnight," he says, still smiling as he shuts the door behind him.

She sighs, and stares at the door for a bit before crawling back to bed. Instead of falling straight back to sleep, however, she stares up at the ceiling for a while, thinking about everything that's happened. She knows she's just asking for trouble, but, at the same time, for the first time in a long time, she also feels hope.


End file.
